Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1887-06-14
Gales aud $ketehes.
EDITH WARNER:
A Story OF the War.
By GEORGE E. WALSH,


rays of the sun had poured down unmer-
cifully en- the slanting roof of the old
hospital. until the interior of the building
seemed like heated oven. The windows
and doors had been thrown wide open
from early morning, and artificial means
employed to start current of air through
the long halls; but the restless tossings
about and feverish cries of the patients
told only too plainly how Intellectual had
been our labors. If we, who were in
sound health. found the heat almost un
bearable. what must the fever-racked
patients have telt! This thought had ire
quently occurred to me. as | moved from
ward to ward. administering to the wants
of the sick ones, and trying to cheer them
with word of comfort. The poor fell
lows would look up at me at such times
with.a faint attempt to smile, but their
words would die away on their lips in an
indistlnct murmnr.
| Toward evening the air became little
cooler, and few of the weaker ones sank
back upon their touches exhausted. and
fell into an uneasy slumber from which
they would occasionally awaken with a
start. The rest lay ON their backs and
quietly watched the great orb of day
slowly sinking to rest in the west, and en-
Logged the cool evening breeze. was
standing by the couch of one of these
sleepless patients, as the day slowly came
to close, trying to interest him in the
beauty of the landscape. He was hand
some man of about forty-five. with the
unmistakable signs of wasting consump-
ton marked upon his clear cut features.
We had received him into the hospital
three DAYS before, when he had come to
us and asked permission to spend his last
few days under our roof, where he knew
that he would receive the best of treat
ment. He had plenty of money about
him, and intmated that we could draw
upon his bank tor all funeral expenses
He said that he was alone in the world,
and had neither friends nor relatives.
The sad story OF the man touched my
heart, and after he was admitted to the hos
pital took exceptional interest in his case,
and tended him constantly. But soon found
him very quiet man, remaining in the
same position on the couch for hours at a
time, without speaking a word or with
drawing his eyes from one object He
loved to gaze out of the window at the
distant woods, and drank in the morning
| anu CNCuIu2 DitCLSS SWcpb up IIOul
the river with truly refreshing eagerness.
This is beautiful evening after such
hot day" he murmured, more to him.
self than to me, as he watched the last
rays of the sun disappear.
YES" said, half hesitating; the air
is growing cooler, and the river breeze is
very refreshing. You seem to ENJOY the
view from this window"
After a.short pause he replied, in slow,
Respondent tone, "Yes, do. 1t was not
far from here that was born and brought
up. These same hills have often re-
echoed with my boyish shouts. and before
the war used to roam over them every
day of my life."
"Indeed," replied, nv interest being
aroused by the mans familiarity with the
place; ''you are, then, native OF this
State. You have not lived around here
latelyp"
mo, have not been in the place be-
fore for nearly fifteen years." he re-
sponded. II could not return until was
ready to die. The remembrance of the
pleasures that l have experienced here
once would have driven me crazy. NV
life has been an active one, and have
drifted among all classes of people but
could never forget my old home and the
cause that drove me away from it."
The man did not seem unwilling to re-.
late his story to me, and so | did not
hesitate to question him further concern
ing his life. For several minutes he re-
manned in doubt, looking me closely in
the face with his mournful eyes, and then
he begrn in his slow way, and related the
/ following account of his life:
! at is unnecessary for me to
give you my true name," he
said. ''for my family and friends
have all been exterminated by the late
war. and there remain none in this section
of the country who would recognize me.
My father was at one time justice of this
town, and vested with considerable power
and influence. He had worked his way up
from poor boy to a respectable station in
life. BY dint of hard work and economy
he accumulated a small fortune, and this
he intended to spend upon me, his only
denied him in his early life. | vas edu.
Gated in the public school until was fif-
teen, and then had private tutor. Edith
Warner, my second cousin, lived with US,
and we learned our lessons together and
IeClttu tucut W ouI SIiCt Olu tutOT. OUo
was small. graceful girl, with great dark
eyes and black hair. Like many other
children thrown together so closely in
early life. we formed a mutual attachment
to each other, and pledged our loves.
This attachment continued until left for
school. We then parted with many tears,
and renewed vows to be true to each other.
Father had secured my appointment TO
West Point. and was to go and become
cadet. The life of an officer in the United
States Army pleased my romantic turn of
mind, and looked forward to the new
life with joy. l pictured to myself the
impression that would make On the mind
of little Edith, when should return with
my military clothes and experiences
iull-fedged graduate OF the great military
school. Then, thought. we would get
married. and probably settle down in
some Western State. A thousand other
tancies passed through my brain. and my
i al H.